


Tiger, Tiger

by Emerald



Category: Moonlight (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-09
Updated: 2013-01-09
Packaged: 2017-11-24 06:40:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/631543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emerald/pseuds/Emerald
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Josef saves Mick from a potentially sticky situation, and then decides he needs more of an education if he's to survive as a vampire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tiger, Tiger

**Author's Note:**

> Pre Canon Timeline

“Run.”

A singular command and Mick was being half pulled, half dragged through the city streets. Over buildings, running across rooftops then, his hand firmly locked in Josef Kostan’s grasp as he struggled to keep up with the older Vampire.

“What the hell?” Mick demanded to know when they finally came to rest on one rooftop in particular, Josef’s hand slipping out of his.

“This is my place, there’s an emergency entrance up here.  I haven’t needed to use it in over fifty years,” Josef ignored Mick’s questioning as he spun open a set of combination locks on a steel trap door.  “Get inside.”

Mick did as he was told, still wondering what the hell it was he was supposed to have done, and why Josef Kostan, a man he’d only met a handful of times, had felt the need to drag him away from what had seemed like a perfectly good excuse to flex some muscle.

They were in a room now. It looked like a private den, filled with expensive furniture, and stocked with a liquor cabinet of what Mick assumed were equally pricey bottles of Scotch. He let out a low whistle when he read one of the labels.

“Nice set up you got here, it was good of you to drag me along to it,” Mick quirked a smile as he sunk into the nearest leather chair, and waited for Josef to offer him a drink.

Josef obliged, maintaining an air of respectable distance as he handed Mick a double shot in a tumbler, and then poured one of his own. “That man you were about to have words with,” he began casually, toying with the glass in his hand as he took a seat opposite Mick.

“Yeah, the mouthy vamp I was about to take down.”

“A fledgling like yourself?” Josef’s raised eyebrow said it all. “You do of course realise that mouthy vamp is the underboss of one of the local crime families. They run almost half the entire Upper East Side. You’re lucky you didn’t get your head taken off.” Josef watched then as what little colour there was in Mick’s face drained away. He tilted his glass in a mock toast. “You, my friend, are an idiot.”

“Shit,” Mick wiped a chastened hand across his mouth, and down his chin. “I suppose I really should thank you for dragging me up here then.” He let out a nervous laugh, his tough guy act beginning to slip.

“Well it’s been a while, but I do have some recollection of what it’s like to be new at this. You feel the need to prove yourself, chalk up a few notches on your fangs. Next time just try and choose your notches a little more carefully.” Knocking back what remained of his drink in one quick draw, Josef attempted to wave Mick’s gratitude aside.

Mick was on his feet then, slipping off his single breasted jacket, and unbuttoning his shirt. “No, see I know how this works, almost did a nickel stretch for break and enter when I got out the Army, band mates, party got out of hand, you know how it goes,” Mick was on the verge of rambling. “But now you, you’re an elder, and that means you have at least some power in this city, Upper East Side notwithstanding.”

“So what, now you have to play nice with me?” Josef raised another eyebrow in Mick’s direction.

Mick’s hand fumbled with the suspenders and zip on his stovepipe trousers. “I didn’t survive two years in Attica by stepping on the wrong toes, and not paying my respects to the guys who ran the joint.”

“Oh I bet you paid a lot of respect,” Josef deadpanned.

“Just tell me what you’d like.” Mick sighed almost impatiently, he seemed resigned to what he thought was about to happen. Josef found his amusement levels suddenly dropping.

"What I’d like is for you to put your clothes back on, and then leave,” Josef pointed to a staircase just outside the door of the room, “front door’s that way. I’ll show you out.”

 Ignoring Mick’s confused looks, Josef waited for him to redress, and then followed Mick down the stairs.

“ _Tiger, Tiger, burning bright,_ ” Josef thought as he watched after his departing guest. The way Mick strutted, feet kicked out, hips rolling casually. Feline like, but not quite. _“A little too bright. This one was going to get himself killed before the year was out, unless someone managed to pull him into line._ ” Josef found himself surprised that he even cared, but then why else had he bothered to save the guy in the first place.

There’d be time to ponder those questions later, for now they were at the door, both of them standing on the threshold attempting to say a polite goodbye.

“So I guess I’ll see you around then,” hands in pockets, Mick scuffed one pointed toe shoe along the ground in front of him.

Josef gave a nonchalant smile as he leant in the doorway, and watched Mick still gradually revealing himself, the attitude all but gone now. “Drop by anytime.”

A week later Mick did just that, appearing on Josef’s door step with a bottle of blood in hand. 

“Peace offering,” Mick handed Josef the bottle with a sheepish smile.

“A Positive, how thoughtful,” Josef scented the contents, and tried not to make his disdain too obvious. “So is this an informal visit, or is there something on your mind?” He gestured for Mick to come inside.

“Look, the other night…”

“…You mean the one where you offered to be my prison bitch, because I helped you out of a jam?” Josef was toying with Mick, just a little.

“Yeah, that,” Mick paced, jittering back and forth as he tried his best to offer some explanation he wasn’t even sure why he was bothering to give. “I grew up in a tough neighbourhood when I was mortal, I learned to survive. The army was supposed to straighten me out, clean up my act. Instead I came off deployment, and went a little crazy…”

“So, jail,” Josef interrupted, “more survival skills, etcetera, etcetera, fascinating story. And what about now that you’re a Vampire?”

 “I can take care of myself.”

“Clearly,” Josef raised an eyebrow and choked back a laugh. “Come on.” He was all business then as he stood up, grabbing his suit coat with one hand, and Mick with the other.

“Okay, where exactly are we going?” Mick asked as he found himself being spirited out the door.

“Out.”

“You’re kind of big on barking orders at people, aren’t you?” Mick found himself in the passenger seat of a Maserati then. He had just enough time to remark on the quality of the upholstery, before Josef gunned the engine, and throttled it down the drive way.

“You need a more refined education, and I know just the place.”

~~~~~~~~~

“Swanky joint you got here,” Mick looked around at the brocade wallpaper, and polished wooden panelling, “So what is this place?”

“This, my friend,” Josef gestured expansively as he swanned through doors that appeared to open for him, “is the crème da le crème of Vampire society. Only the very best get in here, the pillars of our community.”

“So what exactly am I doing here?”

“You’re with me.”

“Your usual booth, Mr Kostan?” Mick watched the deference of the maître de with increasing fascination as he led the two of them to a private area of the bar.

“How do you do that?” Mick slid into one of the Chesterfield leather couches. They were in a room, two frosted glass French doors closing them off to the rest of establishment.

“Do what?” Josef chose from a private selection of Scotch on offer, and poured himself a drink. He did the same for Mick, and slid the glass across the table.

“Command a room the way you do,” Mick leant forward, hungry for more than blood now, thirsting for knowledge. “I mean you just walk into a place, and everyone practically falls at your feet.”

“Let’s just say I’ve had years of practice,” Josef traced a casual finger around the rim of his tumbler whilst remaining deliberately evasive in his answers. He wanted to draw Mick out, slowly.

“So how long is ‘years’,” Mick knocked back his drink in one swift gulp, and poured another. He was trying his best to adopt an air of indifference, just another one the regulars hanging out. He wondered if jaded was an expression that was supposed to go with that. Even so, his hand still shook as he bought the second drink up to his lips.

 Josef leant back in his own seat, his posture open as he studied the changes in Mick’s expression. “I was born at the turn of the century.”

“Oh,” Mick nodded as if he understood, and took another swig of Scotch.

“The 17th century, Mick.”

This time Mick’s mouth formed an O, but no sound came out. He reached for another drink, stiffer than the last. “You…you’re 350 years old?” He finally managed to stammer.

“Give or take,” Josef shrugged, and dusted some lint from his suit coat. “Coraline didn’t mention it?”

“She said you were one of the Elders; I didn’t think she meant it quite that literally,” Mick was still reeling slightly from this newfound information. He had felt his equilibrium shifting.

“Does it bother you?” Josef paused and then rephrased the question. “Do I bother you?”

“No,” Mick was transfixed then, “you fascinate me, like Coraline did when we first met.”

“Really,” Josef raised a lascivious eyebrow.  He gestured for Mick to stand, and followed suit. They stood to one side of the table, the space around them closing in as Josef moved closer. “Just relax,” Josef reassured as Mick took an instinctual step back, “close your eyes, and raise your right hand.”

Mick did as he was instructed. He could sense Josef’s hand near his, held at the same level, close, but not quite touching. “What are we doing?”

Josef chuckled at Mick’s bemused tone, “You wanted to know how to move more like a Vampire, command a room with your mere presence?” Use your Vampire senses to follow my lead, listen to the sound of the air changing as our hands move through it, try and feel the rhythm between the spaces.”

“And what about you, do you keep your eyes closed as well?” Mick sensed Josef’s hand move, and quickly jerked his own up to try and follow.

“Yes, now let go of your mortal senses,” Josef moved his hand to the left, slower this time. “And no cheating.”

This time Mick’s movements were a little smoother. He was beginning to feel a connection, a spark of energy in the movement of their hands through the air that told him where Josef’s was.  Soon he couldn’t tell where his own hand ended and Josef’s began. They were moving as one entity, still not quite touching, each sensing the other.

Josef raised his left hand. On instinct Mick followed suit, his ears pricked to the sound of Josef’s voice, low and encouraging. He felt his fingertips brush against Josef’s own. They were statues then, frozen in time, and place. Mick wondered if he should remember to breathe, until he realised he didn’t need to.

“You want to stop now?” Josef broke their contemplative silence.

Mick shook his head emphatically, “No.”

Their fingers entwining, Mick was being drawn forward, Josef’s forehead rested against his.

“You sure?” There was a hint of teasing in Josef’s tone. Eyes open now he watched Mick’s face for a moment, the slight furrow in his brow, the way he kept moistening his lips. He let go of Mick’s hand, and ran a finger down the side of Mick’s face, tracing the contours of Mick’s bone structure. 

“I didn’t think you liked men,” somewhat hesitantly Mick raised his own hand, and ran it through Josef’s stylishly short crop of hair. Point one; he clearly didn’t use Brylcreem, or Pomade. Point two; the man standing in front of him was more than three centuries old.

“It’s Brilliantine,” Josef choked back another laugh, “I can practically hear you sniffing my hair. And who told you I didn’t like men? Variety is the spice of life, Mick. Or so I hear.” Josef kissed Mick then, once, lightly.

“But the other week, at your place?” Mick returned the kiss, a small, uncertain peck on Josef’s lips.

“Well you just looked so miserable about it.” Josef shrugged, “I like awkward, awkward is fun, miserable doesn’t really do it for me, not with our own kind at least. And you are allowed to kiss me properly, Mick, unless you were planning on trading tentative pecks all night.”

 Mick tried again, letting the kiss linger a fraction longer this time. “How exactly do you kiss someone who’s lived through more than three hundred years of history?”

“Same way you kiss someone who’s lived through the French revolution,” Josef replied. “I mean I assume you kiss Coraline, don’t you?”

“I wouldn’t call it kissing so much as boxing with mouths. And Coraline…?”

“Didn’t bother to tell you how old she was?”

“There’s a lot no one’s bothered to tell me,” Mick’s frustration was palpable. He knew how to hunt, he knew how to feed, he knew how to survive as a vampire, but there had to be more to it than that – there had to be. Or else he really was just a monster.

“Poor lost fledgling,” Josef carefully brushed a stray lock of hair from Mick’s forehead, and then grinned. “You’re lucky you met me, pompous jerk that I am.” Josef pressed his lips against Mick’s ear then, “Discretion never was one of Coraline’s strong points.”

“Oh yeah,” Mick attempted to launch a protest; he came out sounding more like a petulant child. “Well you were the one who told her I wasn’t cut out to be a vampire.”

“Which is exactly why you’re here, with me, begging for knowledge,” Josef parried. “No more kisses then?”

Mick felt a sudden surge of rage at Josef’s patronising tone. “You wanna be kissed?” He lifted Josef up and shoved him into the nearest wall, “How’s this then?”

Mick’s lips were pressed hard against Josef’s own, his fangs descending, drawing droplets of blood as he used them to prick Josef’s tongue.

“There’s my vampire,” Josef purred when Mick had finished growling down his throat.  

“Is it always like this, this hunger, for everything?” Mick was being dragged back over to the table, the two of them stumbling, tripping as they shed clothing along the way.

“You can learn to control it,” Josef placed a hand in the centre of Mick’s chest, and pushed him down onto the table’s lacquered surface. “But why would you want to?”

Why indeed. He was about to get fucked by a three centuries something vampire he really had only met a handful of times, and all Mick could think was – _why indeed_. His body tensed then, the last bastion of his mortality suddenly bringing everything into focus.  And still he couldn’t think of a reason to stop. Focus had turned to want, want had turned to need. And the hunger was ever present.

Mick reached up and drew Josef down to him.

“Please.”

Josef was only too willing to comply, chiding Mick, tongue in cheek, for feeling the need to beg. “Not that I don’t appreciate a good begging mind you,” Josef chortled again, and placed a hand under Mick’s hips, drawing him closer to the edge of the table.  Out of the corner of his eye Mick watched as Josef reached for something in a hidden compartment.

“Neat trick,” an incongruous thought ran through Mick’s mind. He felt grease, warm and uncomfortable between his legs, and pain, a sudden, sharp sting that made his teeth clench. And then flesh, yielding.

“So I guess three hundred and fifty something years gives you a lot of experience.” Those were the last clear words Mick uttered, before Josef began to move inside him.

“Oh you have no idea the experience I have, Mick,” Josef clapped a hand over Mick’s mouth. “They know not to disturb me when I have a guest in here, but it’s best we keep it down to a dull roar.”

Josef adjusted his angle slightly, sending shockwaves of pleasure along Mick’s spine that seemed to explode inside his head. There was a sensation of something building, sparks of electricity that ran through every nerve in his body. Soon he could feel the tips of his fingers tingling, a warm, wet sensation across his mouth as Josef replaced his hand with his lips. And the two of them growling into one another then, their chests reverberating with the sound as the pace quickened. For a moment Josef wondered if he should pull back, draw the game out a little longer. With just the right tempo and positioning he could keep Mick on the edge for hours, listen to him beg for that one moment of release, feed his hunger into frenzy. Too late, Mick was already well and truly passed the point of no return. Josef could taste the metallic scent of blood in his mouth, the delayed sting of fangs penetrating flesh, Mick’s body beneath him stretched taut and exquisite – before the string finally snapped and sent the both of them hurtling over the edge together.

“Damn,” Mick reached for a napkin, laughing with the buzz of afterglow at the mess of semen on his abdomen, wiping off splatters that had reached all the way up to his chest. “Okay, you’re good.” It was then Mick noticed Josef had barely broken a sweat, that and he was already half way to being redressed. “So that’s it?”

_That couldn’t just be it; they had a whole night left to play in. He couldn’t just up and leave, not now._

Mick hadn’t been able to hide the surprise, or the dismay in his voice.

“Oh I’m sorry,” Josef tried to poker face with mock concern as he fastened the buttons on his shirt, “were we supposed to cuddle or something? I have a nine ‘o’ clock start tomorrow morning, and business meetings with mortals all over town, all day, which means copious amounts of sunlight I don’t need, and extra freezer time that I do.”

“Yeah, sure, no problem,” Mick slowly gathered up his own clothing, lighting a cigar in the process to take the edge off the rising annoyance he was feeling. He could hear Josef’s cufflinks snapping shut like a sledge hammer in his ear.

“You’ll get used to the heightened senses soon enough,” Josef remarked off hand when he saw Mick flinch. He hesitated then, already half turned away before he made the decision to turn back. “Look,” his best best reassuring smile at the ready, Josef took a few steps towards where Mick stood. “We’ll keep in touch, you can drop by when Coraline’s in one of her ‘I’m bored with my quarry’ moods. I’ll teach you a few new tricks if you’re lucky.”

“But?” There was always a ‘but’. Mick leant against the edge of the table they’d just fucked on, pants slung around his hips, shirt still unbuttoned. He combed a quick hand through his dishevelled hair.

“But I’m not the sort of person you want to get too involved with,” Josef closed the distance between them, close enough to reach out and touch Mick, his hands distractedly fiddling with buttons, doing each one up in turn.

“Why not, I thought you said I needed a more refined education?” Mick countered.

“Because I have this tendency of hurting the ones I care about the most.” Josef made eye contact then for the first time, there was a pain there behind the arched brow grins, and cynical attitude. Mick had a sense not to press any further. Josef took a step back, seemingly embarrassed as he cleared his throat, and repeated his need to leave.

“Sure, hey,” Mick tossed after him as Josef turned to go. “See you later alligator.”

Josef raised his eyes skyward and reluctantly returned the rest of farewell with the wave of a hand over his shoulder. “After a while crocodile. Oh, by the way,” he stopped and spun heel to face Mick then. “Just one small tip, lose the ‘hey daddy-o’ speech patterns, it’ll date you eventually. And Mick…”

“What?” Mick shot Josef an off centred smile.

“Try not to burn too brightly.”

 


End file.
